What do you believe in? Or not. What are your views? And what are your arguments. I have always wanted to believe that Angels truly existed

But maybe not that way, you stereotypes have listed.

WARNING FOR THOSE WHO ARE SENSITIVE: THIS IS AN ANTI-CHRIST POEM, DON'T READ IF YOU DISAPPROVE, IT'S AS SIMPLE AS THAT. SO FUCK OFF FLAMERS.

Angels

Just a fragment of ones imagination

They are not supposed to be real

Something to think about

Over your next meal

--

As I look around this table

You all close your hands

Praying to something

That we all heard in a fable

--

"Daddy! Mommy!

I thought he was just a story!

Hush Child

He is everything you see in its glory"

--

Taking this in, I shake my head disbelieving

My father before me sees this and starts weeping

My mother stands and raises her hands

"You child, must know that hell is not grand"

--

'Yeah, my ass, Heaven does not exist

And hell seems to be even further in the mist

Admit it mother, The Bible is a fake

You think about every day, lying wide awake'

--

The chair screeched back, and I turn to the shadows

Seemingly at home within their past mellows

My heart inside me, cools and hardens

A heart of steel, a soul with no burdens

--

Disgruntled and annoyed I stomp to my room

To lie in my bed, blanketed by gloom

I close my eyes and listen to your prayers

Sneering quietly, thinking that no one would hear but the mayor

--

My faith fades and my anger grows

Was there any more crap that you could throw?

I felt like I was trapped, in electric barbed cages

I spend my time burning the 'Holy' Bible's pages

--

I was an angry child, I admit, back then

I was surrounded by more idiots than men

The woman worked, and the men slept

Blind to the havoc, their fucking hands wrecked

--

Through this time, my anger swelled

Dirty thoughts bubbled deep in this well

My fist's tighten, my jaws crunched

Some idiot near me was about to get punched

--

Yet before I could commit a 'terrible' crime

The pastor approached, aware of my time

He saw the fury, he saw the 'sins'

He ripped my shirt, and hurled it in the bins

--

Gripping my hair, he threw me into confession

I laughed and snarled, mocking his profession

The shadows around me lengthen and darken

The pastor in front of me kneels down to the floors to mark them

--

The markings were mere scratches, on clear marble floors

I snort cruelly at the man, heading for the doors

Yet the doors slam shut, by some unknown force

And exactly then, I knew something was about to get worse

--

I turn around slowly, bright light scorching my eyes

The draping robes around me flare up then die

Squinting against the harsh light, I focus and see

That a great white angel had appeared before me

--

I stutter and fall, hard and fast

Aware of my troubles, aware of my past

The angels burns brightly, scorching my skin

The air around me smoulders, declaring its win

--

The angel looms over, I cannot see its face

Whether it was a woman or a man, I felt like a disgrace

My deepest fantasies had come true, Angels really did exist

The bright glow surrounds me, and this time I didn't resist

--

I stare up at this angel, my eyes wide and meek

My body still strong, yet it is my will that was weak

I try and say something, anything to confirm

That maybe they were wrong, I had a right to belong

--

Yet all things good, must come to an end

As the Angel slowly shimmers out, now light and dark must blend

The horror within me rises, I choke on my fears

As the Pastor beside it, chuckles and leers

--

My rage returns, rekindled anew

This man before me was about to be ripped in two

I gathered my courage, I gathered my strength

Now see whose boss, as I destroy your men

--

I stand up tall, and plant my feet

I refuse to give way, I refuse to be weak!

I grab hold of the angel, desperate and yearning

Ignorant of its fire, of the pain of my flesh burning

--

Alas, the angel still shimmers, in and out of life

In the corner of my eyes, the Pastor reveals a knife

I look in his eyes, them flashing with darkness

This was not a Pastor, but the Devil who's heartless

--

Before the knife plunges, the Angel burns once more with fervour

I tighten my grip, for careful extra measure

Sadly it was not enough, as my dream bleeds and fades

Out into the darkness, no one coming to its aid

--

A cold hand touches my burning tan skin

I startle awake, jerking away from my Kin

My eyes see the Pastor, but my mind sees a gleam

I turn away and realise, it was nothing but a dream

--

All too familiar tears fall, forming a puddle in its wake

I guess I was right, that everything was a fake

Religion was dead to me, I could no longer dream

The lesson I had learnt here, that nothing was what it seems

--

I wanted to fly, I wanted to believe

I wanted to dream, I wanted to receive

That one gift I asked for, to rekindle my hope

To show me that Angels truly do exist…

And that not everything in this world was a joke.

This poem was almost unfinishable, but thankfully Tuesday and Shanna helped me though, and I was able the gather inspiration from the two of them to find an idea of how to finish them. Thank you guys =] I love you both.

Hope you like it, I guess for me I didn't really know what to do anymore.

Sam

x